Curiosity
by hrududil
Summary: "Why do they call you Duck?" Ted asked. Andromeda rolled her eyes. "We were innocent once, you know."


Five things formed her.

Five significant things.

It was cold, but because of a warming charm that Druella Black had placed on her three daughters, Andromeda didn't feel the blistering edge to the wind that was making her short hair billow out behind her. When the first splatters of rain fell on Andromeda's cheeks, the seven-year-old tilted her head back and tried to capture the droplets in her mouth. Her sisters, nine and five, scolded her for it, lest Druella see.

Andromeda had been just as receptive to their mother's teachings as Bellatrix or Narcissa, but she had a natural curiosity that could not be satisfied. Trixie and Cissa did not want their sister to suffer the consequences. Druella Black, in stunning white dress robes which she reserved for her 'common meetings' with 'common folk' (hence wearing them to Diagon Alley, for who knew how many Mudbloods were around?) had fair hair, pale skin, and the darkest part of her face were her eyes, a deep and freezing blue. She was a woman who hated Mudbloods and half-breeds, blood-traitors and those that Aunt Walburga (Auntie Iceberg, Trixie had dubbed her) blasted off the family tree on the wall. Druella, in her cold looks, was just as cold in her personality. Her three daughters knew that. Trying to drink rain would not have amused her in the slightest.

It was Andromeda's first time in Diagon Alley, but Trixie and Cissa had been there before, for Persephone River's birthday party, however-many-years-ago. They'd gone early, this unfortunately cold morning, because Druella had not wanted to stay around the house all day. There were hardly any people about, but the Black girls didn't mind. They'd be staying here all day; it would be interesting to see this place in all it's various shades of colour. There was also the fact that even when the shops were just putting up their displays, Diagon Alley was a fabulous place.

Trixie, Cissa, and Andromeda played some sort of hopscotch along the cobbled street. It only made sense to them, the winding and twisting and ridiculous rules they were making up along the way. When Cissa slipped over and grazed her knee, causing the youngest Black sister's lip to wobble precariously, Trixie and Andromeda shared a scared look, and the game was over. Druella would not approve.

"Cissa," whispered Trixie, "be more careful next time, please? You know what Mother's like."

"Okay, Trixie," Cissa whispered back, trying not to cry. Her eyes were wide and fearful, so innocent and blue. "I'm sorry."

"Come on," said Andromeda, just loud enough so that her sisters could hear her. "Mother'll have a fit if we're not right behind her. Like ducklings."

"Quack, quack!" giggled Cissa.

The girls smiled at each other and caught up to Druella. Bellatrix Black, the oldest daughter of Druella and Cygnus, had inherited their father's genes. Black hair going halfway down her back, curling into ringlets and absolutely never to be tied up, dark brown eyes that seemed to also be black when she glared her infamous death glare, and was extremely tall for a girl of nine. She wore dark robes that made her pale skin stand out beautifully, and a boy's boots, heavy, which made a satisfying splash whenever she jumped in puddles (when Druella was miles away, Merlin forbid she ever witness something so vulgar).

Narcissa, the youngest, had hair so blonde it was almost white, and it was so long that every morning the house-elves had to come and put it into some intricate braid. It swept nearly down to her knees when it was out, and because she never had to tend to it herself, Cissa adored her hair. Cissa's eyes were as blue as her mother's, but they held none of the malice. At five, she was too short and too skinny for her age, but adorable in her pale blue robes that matched her eyes.

Andromeda – well.

Andromeda was caught in the middle, not just by age but looks as well. Grey eyes, brown hair that was even more ringlet-y than Trixie's, even in its short bob-like state (and Druella hated how short it was, but whenever she lengthened it, her hair just went back to normal), and a grin that found its way to her face more often than not. She always wore bright yellow robes, much to the distaste of Druella, but they suited her. They made her grey eyes seem golden. And they matched her freckles. Merlin, Druella hated her middle daughter's freckles, but Andromeda liked them.

"Ah, Abraxas. Just the pureblood I was looking for." Druella's words were cold, unforgiving as her nature. "There are some matters we need to discuss."

"Concerning what?"

Abraxas Malfoy had never liked Cygnus Black's wife. He was tall and just as 'albino' as the girls' mother, but they were not directly related and absolutely loathed each other. Abraxas was one of the few people who refused to be scared of Druella Black.

"Well, then," said Druella, haughtily, "if you don't want to know the matters of the Dark Lord, and his message for you, I'll leave you be." A glare. "Come, girls."

Druella grabbed Trixie and Andromeda by the hand, and Andromeda latched onto Cissa. The eldest two shared a fearful look – Druella Black never held her daughters' hands – but Cissa was content babbling away to Andromeda.

"Quack, quack," she giggled. "Ducks. Duckies! Quack! What if there were yellow duckies like your robes, Andromeda, then we could call you Duck! Duck, duck, duck. You're Duck, now. Quackies!"

Significant Thing Number One: The nickname Duck.

"Wait!" called out Abraxas. "I'm sorry for being rude, Druella, but could I please hear the Dark Lord's message?"

Druella sniffed, but led them into a restaurant. As Abraxas and Druella were talking, about that weird man who came over to Black Manor more often than not and took their parents away, Andromeda was content sipping her Butterbeer. When the words 'kill' and 'Mudblood' and 'orders' were thrown about, Andromeda didn't even wince. Killing Mudbloods was the right thing to do, those slimy awful creatures trying to steal her magic! She was proud that her parents went out to constantly banish the evil from this world, and one day she wanted to be just like them.

Nicer to her kids, though.

Cissa was getting restless, and Andromeda was worried her mother would curse her, but Druella was so caught up in her message from the Dark Lord (Andromeda didn't like him much, always sneering and hardly ever smiling – Trixie, however, adored him) that she didn't seem to care much about the proper etiquette she preached. Instead, "Girls, why don't you run along for a bit? Remember, beware the Mudbloods, and meet me back here in precisely one hour."

Cissa skidded out of the booth, and Trixie followed her, laughing, while Druella frowned disapprovingly. Andromeda looked fearfully at her mother for a moment, but at Cissa's "Come on, Duck!"s she made a beeline for her sisters, out to drink the rain.

"Oh, Trixie, I'm so glad we're out of there!" Andromeda said loudly. "I thought I'd die with all Mother's talk."

"Don't be melodramatic, Andromeda," said Trixie, laughing giddily. Away from Mother at last!

"Ooh, ooh, ducklings! Look, Duck, ducklings!" and Cissa fell to the ground laughing.

"What is it with her and ducks, lately? And why is she calling you one?" Trixie asked, laughing, too, but at Cissa rather with her.

"I think it's the yellow," said Andromeda, clutching her robes defensively. She loved yellow.

"But ducks aren't even yellow!" Trixie protested.

"Tell that to the Muggle store over there," said Cissa, grinning at the shocked expression on both Trixie and the newly christened Duck's faces as they peered into the window of Muggle Mayhem, a store which sold all things Muggle. On display was a whole horde of bright yellow rubber ducks. And at this, the three girls agreed that Muggles were crazy things and that perhaps they should check out this store. After all, who doesn't like a good bit of craziness now and then?

Andromeda was the first to go in, brave out of her mother's sight, and Cissa followed, too young to really understand what going in there could ever mean. Trixie, however, hesitated before she walked in. Muggles were filth. Stores like this ought to be eradicated. But her sisters were already inside, so she had no other choice but to follow (this is what she told herself guiltily, many years after).

"Look at this!" Cissa called, and Andromeda came to find her surrounded in Muggle sweets. "Sherbet – it looks fantastic! Can I buy it, Duck, oh, please..."

"Oh, Cissa, it's a Muggle store – Mother and Father say everything Muggle-made is awful, so it probably won't taste any good. But now I'm curious," admitted Andromeda, "so here's a knut. Go buy as much as you can – we'll half it."

"What about Trixie?" asked Cissa, eyes wide.

"Ask her," she replied with a shrug.

As Andromeda went to look at all the other amazing things Muggles had made (she doubted they were as stupid as her parents seemed to think they were – judging by this store, they were geniuses), out of the corner of her eye she could see Trixie sighing happily at Cissa, though the eldest Black sister did look a bit confused. Andromeda couldn't blame her – why Cissa needed proof that Muggles were slimy, ugly creatures with no manners and no purpose, neither of the girls knew. Wasn't Druella Black's word enough? At this argument, Andromeda began doubting her mother, every respectable pureblood's beliefs. Then again, Druella had never been to Muggle Mayhem.

"She says yes," Cissa said, "we're allowed to see how awful it tastes. But Trixie won't have any. Says she has enough proof."

"Okay, then. I'll do the talking and you put the knut on the counter, okay?"

Trixie was watching this exchange with an amused expression. Her sisters were only five and seven – they wouldn't be all grown-up until they were nine, like her. While Trixie hung back near the door, where she couldn't hear her sisters but was enthralled by a cuckoo clock, Andromeda and Cissa walked up to the counter, where a kindly old man was sitting there watching them with a smile on his face.

"Could we please have however much sherbet a knut will buy us, please?" asked Andromeda, quite confident.

"Certainly," said the old man. "That'd be two hundred grams. A hundred grams each, yes? Unless your sister wants some."

"Nah, Trixie thinks it'll taste bad," said Cissa, as though she thought it wouldn't.

He came out from behind the counter and led them over to the candy section. His hair was grey and his skin was wrinkled, but his eyes were kind. As he poured and measured the sherbet, he made conversation. "My name is Reynold. What are your names?" he inquired.

"Narcissa Black, of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, pureblood. Duck and Trixie call me Cissa, though." The man's face was paling.

"Andromeda Black, same House, same blood. Lah-di-lah-di-lah." Andromeda grinned "Mother would kill me for introducing myself like that! Anyways, I like yellow, so Cissa here, as soon as she saw the yellow 'rubber' ducks in the window, has started calling me Duck."

"Are you sure you should be in here?" asked Reynold, still friendly but looking nervously around the corners of the shelves (why oh why had he made it so he couldn't see outside?).

"Mother's too busy talking about the 'Dark Lord' and stuff to Abraxas Malfoy," spilled Cissa, and Andromeda backed her up with an eager nod. When Reynold handed over the packets of sherbet, the girls took theirs and Cissa placed the knut firmly into the man's hand. Andromeda muttered a quick "Thank you," before sucking the powder up with a straw. It tasted amazing! Better than anything she'd ever tasted before! There, in front of a smiling Reynold, she was sucking up the sherbet (a Muggle sweet no less) like it was her life source. Soon Andromeda figured that she'd get more sherbet if she ditched the straw and just used her tongue. Cissa was doing the same.

Significant Thing Number Two: The sherbet tasted amazing.

"Merlin's beard," said Cissa, grinning, face covered in powder. "That has to be the best thing I've ever tasted."

Andromeda agreed, eyes wide. Then, turning to Reynold, "how much would it cost to get two of every Muggle candy you have here?"

Reynold's eyes even wider, he said, "Five galleons, maybe? But surely you don't have that much."

"Two galleons a week is our pocket money," Cissa said dismissively, excited to get her hands on more sugar. "Please oh please – Mother will never let us come in here again."

After twenty minutes of getting two of every single lolly the store sold, and Andromeda pressing ten galleons into Reynold's hand, the two younger sisters of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black hid the masses of lollies into their cloaks and robes. They shared a secret grin – the sisters would devour them later, in private, away from Mother and Father, and they'd ask Trixie if she wanted a try. The house-elves would keep quiet about the lollies if asked to do so. Trixie didn't notice anything suspicious about the girls' robes, and because she was the one most likely to spot an unfamiliar bulge, Andromeda and Cissa visibly relaxed. They went bacck out into the street, lest anyone see them being around a filthy Muggle store. Druella Black, if she ever found out, would have had a fit.

"You'd never believe it, Trixie, but it was the best thing I've ever tasted," said Cissa, holding out a tiny fistful of the colourful powder.

Trixie shook her head, nose crinkled up in disgust. "I'm not touching anything a Muggle has made. Slimy, flithy creatures, remember? You're probably tricking me." And when Cissa poured the rest of it into her mouth, to prove Trixie wrong, the eldest Black sister's eyes went wider than the moon. Trixie still firmly denied that she would ever eat anything Muggle-made, but she did look a bit curious. Then, her face clouded over. "Don't let Mother see you eating that rubbish. She'll curse you into next week."

The girls obediently returned to the restaurant their mother and Abraxas Malfoy were situated precisely one hour after their leaving. Abraxas was talking, but Druella was staring at her watch, a dainty thing embedded with diamonds.

"You're five seconds late," she sniffed, eyebrows raised. "But I suppose I'll let you off this time."

"Yes, Mother," Druella's daughters chorused. "Thank you, Mother."

"I am dreadfully sorry, Abraxas, but I can no longer waste my time listening to your pitiful blathering, and I shall spend my day with my daughters. Remember what the Dark Lord has said; remember what I have told you. Good day."

Druella spun on her heels and walked out. After a moment's pause, and a few startled looks at Abraxas Malfoy, Trixie, Andromeda, and Cissa followed their mother out of the reastaurant and back at Diagon Alley. Andromeda cast another look behind her as she scuttled behind Druella, and Abraxas was still staring out the window disdainfully. She sighed. Her mother was usually very sociable with others outside the House of Black, but Abraxas Malfoy and Druella Black had been fighting since they were both in school. It was a feud that Andromeda was sure both of them had forgotten the trigger.

The girls followed their mother out of Diagon Alley, onto a street named Knockturn. It was dark and twisting, but Druella seemed perfectly at home. Trixie tried to copy, and Cissa made her horror obvious. Andromeda was ill at ease, but she was herself. She threw scared looks over her shoulder. Andromeda didn't like it here, but it wasn't as if the creepy old hag in the shop window was going to come out and eat her. She hoped. They followed Druella Black into a little store named Borgin and Burke's.

"I have been sent to receive the package for the Dark Lord," said Druella Black, to the pudgy man at the counter.

It was all too much for the seven-year-old Anrdomeda; the rotting hands and the cursed jewels. It scared her, so she just shut her eyes tight and tried to block the rest of the world out. Trixie was intrigued and Cissa was disgusted, but the fear and the panic just overwhelmed Andromeda. Maybe if she ignored it, things would sort themselves out.

But things dudn't sort themselves out. Druella Black and her daughters were taken behind the counter, into Mr. Burke's 'office' of sorts, and there were gruesome pictures of strange mutations, gleaming objects surrounded by grime, and the gloomy interior made everything look a hundred times more haunted than it really was (although everything was probably very much haunted). Andromeda let out a little squeak and stood there with her eyes firmly shut while her mother and sisters explored the behind-the-counter area with disdain. When Mr. Burke finally had prepared the Dark Lord's package, Trixie and Cissa grabbed each of Andromeda's hands and lead her from the shop. Druella gracefully placed a tattered parcel into the folds of her robes. Andromeda's eyes were still shut tight when her sisters whispered, "Come on, Duck, it's going to be okay now."

She opened her eyes and sighed in relief at the now-familiar sight of Diagon Alley. Cissa gave her a hug, Trixie rolled her eyes, but Andromeda was truly shaken up now.

Significant Thing Number Three: As right as the Dark Lord was, his business was scary.

Druella marched ahead again, her daughters in tow. The girls were in a line, skipping idly, holding hands. Andromeda and Cissa wouldn't have noticed their mother turning into Quality Quidditch Supplies (Druella Black despised Quidditch) unless Trixie hadn't been obsessively trying to copy her mother's every move.

"Duck!" she hissed. "Cissa! In here!"

"You two are really going to keep on calling me that, aren't you?" Andromeda mused, pulling Cissa into the shop that Trixie had just ducked into. She didn't mind much. She liked the name Duck.

Quality Quidditch Supplies was possibly the strangest place the Black girls had ever been. They'd only ever seen a few photos in the newspapers of famous Quidditch players when the world cup was on last year; they knew little to nothing about the world of brooms and pitches and sport in general. Cissa stared at everything with her blue, moon-like eyes, drinking everything in. Andromeda looked at everything with curiosity, critically, thinking that that broom on the shelf just there probably could have been made with something different, or that tarnish was just going to eat away at the wood.

"Come on!" hissed Trixie again, grabbing Andromeda's hand and dragging her to where Druella was at the new release section, hovering near the new Comet.

It was the fastest broom of all time, apparently, with much better quality wood than all the other ones Andromeda had seen. It looked sleek and shiny, but that couldn't be the only reason Druella Black was looking at it.

"Your father wants a broom," said Druella, stiffly.

She talked to the clerk as though he was scum, and even though he didn't look any different to any of the other people about Diagon Alley in the middle of the day, Andromeda supposed he was a half-blood or something. She wished she could tell, like Druella could. Druella Black handed over a lump sum of money (Andromeda's mouth watered at how many Muggle lollies she could have bought with the money that was going towards the broom) to the scummy clerk, and gave an address to deliver to. With that, she spun on her heel and was halfway out the shop already, her daughters running to catch up.

Andromeda's eyes widened at the sight before her. Their mother was standing above another woman, probably of similar age. This woman, sprawled on the gorund, was rather portly and had three little girls, too, standing behind her. Andromeda made eyes at the middle-height girl, who had pretty auburn hair and more freckles than she did, trying to apologise for her mother's coldness. It was entirely unlike her not to apologise.

"Don't get in my way," Druella Black said coldly. "I know you like to throw yourself at my feet, but it is becoming tiresome, you Mudblood."

Trixie sneered at the other girls, who were helping their mother up, but Cissa looked away. The eldest child of the woman on the floor stared definatly back at Trixie, red face matching her flaming hair. The youngest scowled at Druella, and glared at her openly.

"My Mama ain't done nothing to you."

The woman picked her youngest one and ushered away. Andromeda and the middle girl stood staring at each other for a little before the eldest one came back for her.

"Come on, Bea."

"Come on, Duck."

Trixie was there for Andromeda, too. She gave the Mudblood girls one last look before following her mother and sisters away from the store. Andromeda couldn't help but wonder about their family. It was supposed to be as though they were polar opposites, Pureblood and Mudblood, but it all seemed pretty much the same to her. How much were Mudbloods really that different from people like her? Muggle-borns, Andromeda mused, trying out the word in her head.

Significant Thing Number Four: Muggle-born people were still people.

That night, when Andromeda, Trixie and Cissa were all back in their rooms, she thieved out her Muggle candies from her robes. She ate them all in one go, eyes rolling back in insane pleasure with all the wonderful flavours she was tasting. Andromeda certainly hoped her mother wouldn't come in to check on her (she'd never done it before, but Andromeda had heard stories from distant cousins at parties that their parents did that sometimes), because Druella Black would have thrown a fit.

Although, on second thoughts, if Cygnus Black had come in and seen her stuffing her face with Muggle products, she would have been disowned. She'd take Druella any day.

Andromeda's walls were covered in art and stickers and photographs. She loved her room, with the yellow bedsheets and the white walls. It was a strange room for a seven-year-old (and a Pureblood one no less) to like, but Andromeda had always been a curious girl. She twiddled her short curly hair in her fingers, wondering.

Significant Thing Number Five: Duck wasn't really much of a Slytherin.

* * *

Oki, so... This is my first fanfiction, and even though I really want to write about what happens next in the lives of the Blacks and Ted Tonks and everyone, I think this is better as a one shot. I will write more about Ted and Andromeda, though, and this will sort of be the back story? So, please review, and point out any mistakes, please?

Salaam, Ro.


End file.
